Sixty
by acidic paper
Summary: America spends more time in Europe than he had during the second world war.


America spends more time in Europe than he had during the war, like he can watch the Soviet Union better from Western Europe. (He doesn't trust the distance between himself and Ivan more than he has to and that gap is closing _and closing_ and soon they'll stand toe to toe and the whole world will still be watching.)

Days pass in Germany's company, the closest he can get without crossing over that line (God, he hates that fucking line and everything east of it) and he grows accustomed to it and soon fond of it. He's used to it, he tells himself it's only a natural progression of things—to want more and surround himself with it because _he's used to it_ and there isn't anyone else out here who's willing to put up with his shit and who he's willing to do the same.

Ludwig has an apartment in the new capital. (When he describes it to his brother, the other laughs out a _you lucky bastard (wheezes_) and Ludwig wants to say something more _the government took away those rations but that didn't help, Gilbert, how thin are you_, but the other will be too proud to answer.) Ludwig hears a click and a dial tone soon after.

Alfred had helped him get it, put in a few good words and a nice smile. (Ludwig knows the standard of living Alfred's used to and as they begin spending more time together he thinks this is a large part of Alfred's willingness to pull strings for him.) He's grateful. Even if Ludwig believes this is almost all for Alfred's benefit and another piece in the puzzle to win the west over despite Ludwig already being there, _here_, apart of what Alfred helped create.

..

Alfred brings him Coca-Cola sometimes and Ludwig finds it sickly sweet, but he feels as though it's impossible to deny something from Alfred (and maybe that's how it began from his end, unable to deny America, America who has power Germany had only dreamed of at a time.)

He's used to the company of the other just as quickly and totally as Alfred had become so fond of his.

..

Alfred smokes more often nowadays, more than he had during the war (just as he's grown more cynical as the years pass, somehow more reserved and more open about what he thinks all at once, doesn't hold back his tongue once he starts.)

He tries to hide it somewhat, tries to control the twitch of his hand when he wants a cigarette around Ludwig because he knows he dislikes the habit. Ludwig appreciates the gesture, appreciates it more than the apartment because this is something Alfred does _only for Ludwig_, something he won't benefit from (and all Ludwig can think of is how selfish the other is, really, a country built of selfishness and sometimes he can't help but feel nothing but anger towards the other and want nothing to do with him.)

(Sometimes Alfred actually understands it.)

..

"You're spending too much fucking time around him, kid," is the next thing Ludwig hears from his brother.

Gilbert _tries_. He tries to sound authoritative and Ludwig tries to listen for the _stop_ in his voice that he heard so much as a child, but he can't hear it. Gilbert is bitter and old and not _quite_ beaten and that's all he can make out in his words. (Ludwig pities him, but regrets the emotion as soon as it passes. Gilbert would never forgive him for it.)

..

Alfred is rougher than he imagines when they have sex for the first time. He claws and scratches and bites at Ludwig (and when Ludwig looks in the dirty mirror the next morning he sees those red marks, raised and angry.)

He's always thought the other to be a bit prudish and gentle most of the time, (_oh, how time has changed that_, and Ludwig wonders if the Alfred he remembers will return) but Alfred smiles gently when he sees him come outside on the landing, stubs out his cigarette before Ludwig realizes he was smoking.

There is the Alfred he had once imagined.

He can almost forget the knot they've found themselves in, like it's finally untangled. (He's slipping through and one day Alfred with find another reason to stay at his apartment, but that day seems so far off except for in these moments that are too short-lived, _too temporary_.)

..

Gilbert tells him he's _getting too sweet on the asshole_. (_America_ who is building up _and up and up_, who has succeeded in too many things, made so many things worse)

Ludwig is. He knows this so perfectly, but he wants to say _and yet look where you are and look where I am, Gilbert._ He holds his tongue and hates himself for it as soon as the moment passes.

Ludwig is starting to hate himself outside of every _one_ of those vicious temporary moments. He wants to grasp on to them for as long as he can, but they grow shorter and shorter each day.


End file.
